


And there was only one tent

by NoMatterTheOceans



Series: Feysand Summer Fluff Fest [7]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMatterTheOceans/pseuds/NoMatterTheOceans
Summary: Part of my Feysand Summer Fluff Fest!!Prompt: “i hate all things bugs and pretty much all of nature but, I still agreed to go on this trip with you because of how enthusiastic you are about it all; not because I care about you or anything.” + It started raining and we didn’t think it was gonna be so bad so continued to set up our tent but ten minutes later it’s pouring with rain and we’re hiding out in our tent.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand Summer Fluff Fest [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812112
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	And there was only one tent

**Author's Note:**

> I have the biggest migraine tonight so even just posting this is already a struggle, so I didn’t edit it, hope you like it ^^. Also YES this is the funniest title I have ever came up with lmao

Feyre doesn’t think she has ever been so miserable before.

Not once in her life has she found herself standing in a clearing in the middle of nowhere, bugs relentlessly flying around her, after having walked more than 8 miles across a forest. And  _ of course _ , a storm is approaching fast. Because why wouldn’t there be a storm approaching?

Mor and Andromache have already set up their tent and have headed inside to rest before they all start on the evening meal. Cassian and Azriel’s tent is ready too, and they’re over by the river now, laughing loudly as they try their best to push each other in the water. Rhys has finished setting up his own tent, and he tried to show her how to set up hers, but after she almost broke her fingers three times in a row with the small hammer, he gently told her he could do it himself.

She feels a little bad, standing beside him as he works, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He loves camping, he loves setting up tents and building bonfires and sleeping on the ground in an uncomfortable sleeping bag. Feyre knows all of this of course, since it’s the very reason she’s here in the first place. He talks a lot about his camping trips during breaks.

She doesn’t like camping  _ at all _ . Well, to be honest, she doesn’t know if she likes camping or not, because she doesn’t like hiking in the wild, or being bothered by bugs, or anything like that. What she does like however, or better yet,  _ who  _ she likes, is her coworker Rhysand.

She’s been having this insufferable crush on him for months now, to the point of it becoming embarrassing. He doesn’t seem to realize it though, or maybe he simply doesn’t care about her that way. She’s been trying to find a reason to spend time with him for a while but she’s never worked up the courage to actually ask him out.

So when he asked her if she’d be interested in a camping trip with his family, over the holiday weekend, she said yes immediately.

And now she’s regretting it. Deeply.

His family is really nice. Cassian and Azriel made her laugh all day long, Mor has already arranged for the both of them to go shopping together, and Andromache lent her bug repellent and fixed up the straps of her backpack when she realized Feyre did not come prepared at all.

Rhysand… Rhysand has been nothing but wonderful with her, he matched her rhythm all day, held her hand to go through more difficult passes, and offered to carry her bag a couple of times. She refused every time, but now her shoulders are killing her, even though the bag is on the ground.

She’s busy shooting daggers at her sore feet when the rain starts to fall. She stifles a moan of despair as the cold rain starts to trickle down her back, and Rhys looks up at her with a warm smile.

“I’m gonna need another ten minutes here, you should put your stuff in my tent to avoid it getting wet. You better stay there while I finish up.”

She nods and miserably gathers her backpack, mattress and sleeping bag, and walks towards his tent. After what feels like an eternity struggling with the two sets of zippers to get in - why on Earth do there need to be two different canvas? - , she manages to get in. She throws her charge on a corner and closes both zippers behind her. She sits on the hard ground with a groan, takes off her shoes, and waits for the rain to pass, or for Rhys to tell her she can go back out.

Two, maybe three minutes pass, and the rain keeps getting worse, the noise deafening on the tent around her. After a while, she hears muffled voices outside, and the zippers open. Rhys gets in and closes them back up. He’s soaking wet, his black hair striking out all around his face. He gives her an apologetic smile before he starts to talk.

“The rain is worse than I thought. I didn’t have time to set up your tent, I’m sorry.”

Does that mean what she thinks it means?

“Do you think we’ll manage to set it up before nightfall?”

He shakes his head. “Even if the rain stops, the inside canvas is soaked. Only the outside one is waterproof. We’d have to dry it before anyone can sleep inside.” Oh, so  _ that’s  _ why there are two different layers. But Rhys isn’t done talking, and now he’s rubbing his neck, and she sees a blush forming on his cheeks. “We might have to… share this one, if that’s okay with you.”

Oh God, now she can feel heat creep up her own face at the implications of what he just said. Sure, she hoped this weekend might help them grow closer but she didn’t think they’d end up sleeping in the same tent. Not because of a storm anyway.

But she nods and mumbles a quiet ‘of course,’ and he grins at her. Then she sees a tremor go through him, suddenly remembers he spent several minutes in the rain trying to set up her tent, and she feels bad.

“Maybe you should change out of these clothes before you catch a cold.” But right after she says it, there’s the very clear realization that she can’t get out, so she’ll have to be in the same very small space as him while he strips. Not that she minds, if she’s being honest. But he probably does.

He looks down and nods. “You’re right.” And then he takes off his shirt, and Feyre’s brain short-circuits. She knew he had some tattoos, because they talked about it once. And she knew he was fit, because he uses the office’s gym more than anybody. But no amount of knowledge could have prepared her to handle the vision that is Rhys’ bare chest. A large, intricate tattoo covering his chest and shoulders, stopping only to make way for a very toned belly. She can’t stop herself from imagining running her hands on his skin, and she looks away only to find him looking at her with a small smirk on his lips.

But thankfully he doesn’t comment on her obvious ogling, and she turns away to let him get out of his pants and put on dry clothes.

The ruffle lasts a few minutes until finally she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m done.”

When she turns back, she finds him wearing sweatpants and a sweater, and he’s unfolding her mattress to lay it on the ground. The next five minutes are a weird and awkward mix of bumping into each other as they set up both mattresses and sleeping bags until finally they’re each sitting cross-legged on a mattress. Feyre is starting to feel like the silence is going to stretch on forever when Rhys speaks.

“Did you enjoy the hike, today?”

She’s got half a mind to lie and say that she did, but she knows that she looks miserable, and she doesn’t want to lie to him.

“Not really… To be honest, I’m not really a fan of hiking, I’m not… great with the outdoors.”

The smile he gives her is almost sad. “I figured. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

“No,  _ I’m  _ sorry. I shouldn’t have said yes knowing I would ruin everything.”

“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything. I had a lot of fun chatting with you, today.”

She feels her heart flutter a bit, and she smiles at him. “I did too.”

They fall silent again, but this time the air feels less tense around them, and Feyre feels more at ease than she had all day. That is, until she feels a chill run down her spine, and realizes she doesn’t have a warmer sweater.

“Are you cold?” Rhys asks her right away, and she nods.

“I didn’t really plan for a storm.”

He digs up another sweater from his bag and hands it to her.

“Bit of advice: always plan for bad weather when you go camping.”

She chuckles and gratefully accepts his sweater. It smells faintly of citrus, and she wonders if it’s from his fabric softener. She puts it on and immediately feels better.

In the meantime, Rhys lay down on the mattress, and he’s looking at her with his arms behind his head. She also lies down on her own mattress, but she realizes she doesn’t have anything to makeshift into a pillow. She hears Rhys laugh under his breath, and looks up to find him staring at her with a smug smile on his lips. Opening his arm, he gestures for her to come closer, and she finds herself snuggling closer until her head is resting on his arm and his hand closes on her back. He’s looking at her with an intensity she’s never experienced before, but for the first time, she doesn’t feel nervous.

She doesn’t know if it’s the fact that she’s exhausted, or if the noise of the rain falling against the tent is soothing her, or if feeling his hand rest on her back settles her, but she feels as if she could lay here forever, staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m sorry I asked you to come camping,” he says in a whisper, “ I should have thought of a better activity for us to do together.”

“It’s okay,” she answers, and adds, “together?”

He nods, and she feels his body shift until he’s facing her, and his free hand comes up to caress her cheek.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while. I just didn’t know how.”

She can’t stop herself from moving closer to him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“I wasn’t sure you were interested,” she admits in a shy voice, and he laughs.

“Oh, I’m very interested.”

And at those words, he moves down until their lips are brushing, timid and searching at first, and then eager, intense, unrelenting.

Feyre doesn’t know how long they kiss, entangled in each other’s arms, but when they stop to catch a breath, she’s on her back, Rhys’ body hovering over hers, a lazy smile on his slightly swollen lips. And when he gives her a mischievous look and bends down until his mouth brushes her neck, she can’t restrain a content sigh anymore.

***

The rain stops eventually, and the clouds seem to disperse to leave way for a cold but bright evening. But Feyre supposes any evening would seem bright to her right now. Because Rhys spent the last hour or so kissing her mouth, her neck, her collarbone, his hands roaming beneath her clothes and teasing her continuously. Not that she stayed idle, and Rhys is currently lying on his back, his chest bare, panting heavily as he holds her against him.

Her eyes half-closed, she traces the lines of his tattoo with her fingertips, enjoying every time she manages to make his breath flutter, or his hands grip her more tightly.

She could stay like this forever if he wanted her to. Well, maybe not forever. It’s still camping after all. But at least for the night.

She hears noise coming from outside, and Cassian’s voice rings just beside their tent.

“Rhys, Feyre, are you hungry?”

Rhys gives her a suggestive smile and she has to restrain a laugh, so she buries her head in his shoulder, letting him talk.

“We could eat.”

“A fire is out of the question since the wood is drenched, but I’ve got the camping stove. You guys coming out?”

“In a minute. Thanks, Cass.”

Glad he gave them a bit more time to cuddle in private, Feyre finds herself picturing all of them eating together in the wilderness, her and Rhys snuggled close together to stay warm. And with that image in mind, she’s starting to think maybe she doesn’t mind hiking and camping, if it’s with him.


End file.
